


irresistible

by roseweasley394



Series: Moments Like These [17]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Bad Decisions, Established Relationship, F/M, Flying, Grief/Mourning, Hogwarts Sixth Year, Injury Recovery, Minor Character Death, The Quidditch Pitch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:01:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25075036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roseweasley394/pseuds/roseweasley394
Summary: “We never learned how to fly,” Rose said, looking at him eagerly.“Of course we did. We only spent an entire winter practicing,” he replied, finally looking up to smile at her tiredly.“Sure, we taught ourselves how to ride a broomstick. But there’s a difference between that and really flying.”
Relationships: Scorpius Malfoy/Rose Weasley
Series: Moments Like These [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1780003
Comments: 1
Kudos: 14





	irresistible

* * *

It had all been a complete accident. The image of a shock red hair tearing through the night sky then thudding against the cold earth replayed in Scorpius Malfoy’s mind with nothing but the slow tick of the Hospital Wing’s clock to distract him. Head in his hands, he willed Madame Pomfrey to walk around the corner to tell him that Rose was okay, but she didn’t and he found the overwhelming feeling of nausea becoming increasingly more difficult to ignore.

It had started off simply enough in the winter of their fifth year. Both he and Rose were shit when it came to flying. But per usual, Rose hated being bad at anything. So, just so he could see her smile, he made it his sole purpose to teach both of them. After all, he’d never been able to say no to her. She was irresistible.

“Scorpius,” she whined as he pulled her along the corridor.

“It’s cold out there. Can’t we just wait for the spring?” She asked, trying to ignore the butterflies that erupted in her stomach as she realized that at some point he had grabbed a hold of her hand.

“Of course not! No good quidditch player ever succeeded by staying inside throughout the entirety of winter,” he said, ignoring the blush that covered his cheeks as she leaned against him dramatically.

“But I don’t want to be a good quidditch player. I just want to learn how to stay on a broom longer than 15 seconds,” she pouted.

“Which is exactly what we’re going to do! Are you trying to say that you’re afraid of the cold?” he asked, stopping to look at her challengingly.

She narrowed her eyes angrily. “No, I’m saying that it’s bloody freezing and I value my health enough to want to stay inside.”

“Okay,” he said, shrugging. “I guess you can join me once it warms up. But by then I’ll be _much_ better than you,” he said, letting go of her hand and continuing to the quidditch pitch.

She groaned loudly and made it a point to childishly stomp the entire way out to the pitch. She might be miserable, but she wasn’t going to let him beat her.

And that was the start. Through the entirety of the winter of their fifth year they taught themselves how to adequately fly. Of course, they’d had lessons in first year, but there was a difference in learning how to hover three feet off of the ground and learning how to really fly.

Spring rolled around and with studying for their OWLs their goals were quickly forgotten. They practiced a bit over the summer before sixth year but in all honesty, were too busy trying to deny their obvious feelings for each other to really care. They finally got together towards the beginning of their sixth year and were much too busy being much in love to even remember what they had started. Winter came, an entire year later, and they were holed up in the library agonizing over their latest essay in Potions when Rose remembered.

“Scorpius,” she said, breaking the comfortable silence that they’d fallen into.

“Yes, love,” he said, not looking up from the stack of parchment in front of him.

“We never learned how to fly,” she said looking at him eagerly.

“Of course we did. We only spent an entire winter practicing,” he replied, finally looking up to smile at her tiredly.

“Sure, we taught ourselves how to ride a broomstick. But there’s a difference between that and really flying.”

When Scorpius stared at her dumbly she continued. “My entire family talks about it. The wind in your hair, the jittery feeling in your stomach, _the rush_ ,” she said excitedly.

“Why are you bringing this up now?” he yawned, unable to wrap his head around why now was the moment to revisit their old challenge.

She shrugged. “I just think it would feel nice. Don’t you?”

“Of course it would feel nice. But I hate to be the one to remind you that neither of us is too athletically inclined. And I would love to help you fulfill this dream of yours, but not after midnight on a Tuesday,” he said, reaching across the table to tuck a stray curl behind her ear.

“I’m not saying that I want to do it now. I’m just saying that at some point, we should try again,” she initiated, blue eyes blazing with something you couldn’t quite place.

“Okay,” he said grinning and shaking his head. “If you _really_ want to fly, then we can try again,” he said, squeezing her hand tightly.

After that night, Rose talked constantly of learning to fly. Scorpius found it strange; it was so unlike her to want to do something so reckless. But the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. Ever since Christmas, Rose had been different.

She knew that her Grandad Granger was sick. They all knew. But something about celebrating the holidays with him for what could’ve very well been the last time had both of the Granger-Weasleys in a rut. And if doing something completely crazy was what she needed to feel even a little bit better, then Scorpius was going to do it.

That’s why when he was so rudely awoken from his glorious slumber by a suddenly reckless redhead, he couldn’t even try and be angry. Not when her eyes were shimmering with tears and her bottom lip just wouldn’t stop quivering.

Not even really questioning how she’d gotten into his dormitory, he pulled on a jumper that he’d discarded and wrapped an arm around her as she cried.

“Hugo and I are leaving in the morning for the funeral,” she said in between sniffles.

“I’m so sorry, Rose,” he murmured against her hair, leading them towards the biggest couch in the Common Room.

She collapsed against him once they sat down and told him that she’d just received a tear-stained piece of parchment from her mum explaining that he had passed peacefully surrounded by loved ones, all except her and Hugo she quickly reminded him between sobs.

Scorpius said nothing, just held her against him as she cried. They stayed like that for a long, long time. When her sniffling had decreased significantly, he asked her a question that he would come to regret immensely.

“Do you want to go to the kitchens? We can get anything you want,” he suggested, toying with the ends of her curls.

She shook her head and he frowned.

“Do you want to go to McGonagall? I’m sure she’d let you leave now if you asked,” he offered hopefully.

She shook her head again and he sighed.

“What do you need, Rose. Seriously, I’ll do anything,” he said, pulling her away from his chest so that he could look into her red-rimmed, sparkling blue eyes.

“Anything?” she asked hesitantly.

He nodded fervently, already regretting his words.

“Let’s fly,” she said, giving him what appeared to be an attempt at a smile.

Scorpius sighed. He knew that there was simply no way to get out of this. So, he smiled back, nodded, and told her to go upstairs and put on her cloak.

They met at the base of the staircase and walked silently to the quidditch pitch. He summoned two brooms and closed his eyes tightly. For some reason, he didn’t think that flying in the middle of the night was a good idea. But how could he resist her, especially now?

He was torn from his thoughts as she shot off of the ground and blasted past him. She continued to circle around his head until he too took off, but with much less fire. They whirled around the pitch for a while before she started to increase her speed. It was faster than she’d ever flown and she soared past him. His heart fluttered as he heard her laugh echo across the empty field.

She continued to go faster, now weaving up and around the poles and his stomach twisted as he saw her just barely miss the announcer's box.

“Rose, maybe you should slow down,” he called out.

No sooner had the words left his mouth before her broom started to move erratically. She was screaming and so was he, him fumbling for his wand and her holding on for dear life. She suddenly jerked to a stop, her broom catapulting her from at least 5 meters in the air, sending her flying into the hard ground

He didn’t remember much after that. He knew that he’d screamed endlessly as she collided with the dewy earth. Somebody must have heard him because he found himself being escorted to the hospital wing.

He remembered Professor McGonagall asking him why they had been out of their beds in the first place. She hadn’t even looked angry, just sad. He could only recall the part of his answer in which he told her in between tears that he would later be embarrassed that she saw him shed, that he didn’t know how to tell Rose no. Not then. Not ever.

So, there he sat, slumped against the cold stone wall, watching the sunrise through a high window when Madam Pomfrey scurried over from across the hall. She told him that Rose was alright, she had landed on her arm strangely in the fall and it was still mending, but she was okay. He let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding and tears of relief stung his eyes.

He was now allowed to sit with her where she laid on a cot, sound asleep. He held her non-injured hand and even though she couldn’t hear him, he told her that he had been terrified, more so than he ever had been. He cried a little bit more, remembering what it had been like to see on her fiery mess of curls rip through the blackness and collide with the earth.

She eventually woke up and kissed him hard, not that he deserved it. He had let her grief turn into recklessness and she should hate him. But she didn’t because she could never.

“Your parents are going to see you today and know that this was because of me,” he said, grasping her uninjured hand tightly.

“They aren’t going to think that at all,” she said, loosening herself from his grip and stroking his face lightly.

“I was just so scared, Rose. You were going so fast and I don’t know what happened. I mean one second you were fine and then the next,” he trailed off and she sighed.

“Scorpius, I was being stupid. None of this is your fault,” she said.

“No,” he said firmly. “It’s my job to take care of you and I failed.”

“You’re wrong,” she said sharply. “You can’t blame yourself every time I have a lapse in judgment. That can’t be how this works.”

He looked at her intently, his own grey eyes shimmering with tears.

“We can take care of each other, but we can’t always try and save each other. Alright?” She asked, reaching up to carefully wipe away his tears.

He nodded and she smiled softly. “I want you to come with me to the funeral today.”

“You don’t mean that,” he said bracingly, shaking his head furiously.

“I do. I can’t do it without you,” she insisted.

Without another word, she grabbed a fistful of his jumper and pulled him down to kiss him fiercely. When he pulled back she was giving him a smile that he would do anything for. And so he gave in. He told her yes, he would go to the funeral with her. He would stand with her, hold her, and be the strength she needed because really, how could he ever resist her?


End file.
